Weekend Update
... and now, your host - Sicky McDrinkstoomuch.
So I can finally get some fucking solid food down after last night. But we'll get back to that... First off I'd like to recap the past two days, starting with yesterday because it seems only fair of me to pander to correct chronological referencing. Saturday was my last day in The RMC, which is SBC shorthand for JESUS FUCK HELP ME NO MY EYES WHY DID YOU PUT IT IN THERE OAAAAGGGHHHHHhhh... I am a collector for the phone company no more. No more, Uncle Ben. No more. Instead, I start training for my new position as a business sales rep on Monday, which I understand involves less of "me pushing old ladies down the stairs for their welfare check" and more "me taking money from people who have too much of it and putting a small percentage in my pocket." Robin Hood-esque comparisons aside, I'm fuckin getting pizaid, yo. Took the day to clean out my desk, which unfortunately meant packing up the adamantium shield that protects my customers from what I'm really wanting to say. There may have been a few "I apologize that you're too far removed from reality...", "I wasn't aware you expected SBC operators to predict the future...", or "How do I expect you to pay this bill, you ask? Well, since you're the one who accumulated the fees, I'm going to say 'check or charge'.", and similar responses. The double-whammy of fun is that my boss is out on maternity leave, so the ten (which is a huge number of a single day) complains I earned were all referred to a woman who just had a baby. Good luck finding either of us come Monday, fuckers.
The end of the work day came by me lugging my box to my car, sitting in the driver's seat and giving the building a double "You're Number One!" finger until one of the managers came out and asked me to stop because it was distracting people still working. I guess it has yet to set in that I don't have to fucking go back there. No more "Why my bill so high" or "What the fuck you want! I can't pay this!" etc. I don't imagine business account execs are going to be all puppies and sunshine, but at least they're not going to rack up a $500 cell bill, tell me they can't pay because they lost all their shit at the racetrack, and then get on MY case when I don't find that a good fucking excuse.
Came home and shipped myself off to Best Buy to grab something for the Dan's birthday. I hate going to that goddamned place because everytime I leave without something FOR MYSELF I feel like I've been cheated somehow. Anyway we get to the Kobe place and have dinner, enjoy life, etc etc. Got to see Rob and Z in addition to the Dan, all of whom I hadn't seen in awhile. It was pretty good to just kick back and make fun of Dan's inability to get a car like old times.
Dan liked his gift, which brings me to this note - the Activision compilation for the GBA has a unreleased version of Freeway called "Bloody Human Freeway" where you're a person and not a bouncy rubber chicken. I'm sure you can imagine A) Why it wasn't released, and B) Why it's much more entertaining.
So we went back to Dan's apartment after I stuffed myself full of shrimp and wtfever else was put on my plate. It is important at this point to mention, for sheer purposes of irony later, that I took AP Physics my sophmore year. So not only do I understand what happens when you try to overstuff a container, but I also understand it very well. Which is funny, because 30 minutes after nearly making myself sick at the restaraunt, we go and I'm sitting down with a huge rum and Coke in one hand and a Bailey's shake in the other. More on that later. Not sure who owned the game that we were watching, but we went from having Jake/Rob play Super Galga Remix M3g4 R0xx to a Pac Man of the same breed. Apparently what has happened with these titles is that somewhere a bunch of Japanese kids got paid to get stoned out of their goddamed minds and write down how Galga and Pac Man could be made better. On this hallowed list was apparently things like: (Galga) Space flowers that shoot aliens, spinning backgrounds, aliens doing dance formations, and the ability to turn your little shooter into a fucking Escolade. On Pac Man, they really hit the sweet, sweet cheeba, and came up with - BIGGER MOUTH FOR PACMAN LOLOLOL!!!!1!!1!!!, ghosts forming together to make demons, ghosts that puked up more pellets, ghosts that jumped, spots that made you zip across the screen and JACK th FUCK out of the ghosts, and little pills that make you win. The game is such a fucking front for chemical abuse now it's sad.
So Dan then says, "Carbombs!" which I was down with, even though I barely had enough room left in my hollow fucking leg to put anything at all in me. Carbombs, if you're not 100% sure, are when you take a shot of Bailey's, drop it into a glass of Guiness, and slam the whole thing. And since I was all excited about being tipsy and FrankenPacMan and not having to be a collector anymore, I decided that everyone was going to have to slam a whole fucking bottle of the Guiness.
Toilets are pretty cool.
I didn't get sick, though I nearly did and decided to take a small nap on Dan's bathroom floor. It was getting late anyway (for me on a workday), so I didn't really coherently think this out. It was more like "auugh feel bad ooh floor bye". Kim woke me up and took me back home where I laid down for a half hour, burped a fuckload, and felt better but not awake enough to go back to Dan's. So I just SWG'd until 3am. I am king geek, powered by pwnite.
Complete aside, my brother keeps talking up this forum he visits that's associated with a local radio show called the Church of Lazlo. As I'm getting slowly and inexorably sucked into politics, I decided to join up and take a look at the political forum there. Although it's filled with the predictable number of "omfg ur a republiker stooge" and "shut up fag liberil!", there was this gem, where my brother Spe-Dog gets some "you got served" time. Hot shit.
And that's all.
Anjin-san off.
So I can finally get some fucking solid food down after last night. But we'll get back to that... First off I'd like to recap the past two days, starting with yesterday because it seems only fair of me to pander to correct chronological referencing. Saturday was my last day in The RMC, which is SBC shorthand for JESUS FUCK HELP ME NO MY EYES WHY DID YOU PUT IT IN THERE OAAAAGGGHHHHHhhh... I am a collector for the phone company no more. No more, Uncle Ben. No more. Instead, I start training for my new position as a business sales rep on Monday, which I understand involves less of "me pushing old ladies down the stairs for their welfare check" and more "me taking money from people who have too much of it and putting a small percentage in my pocket." Robin Hood-esque comparisons aside, I'm fuckin getting pizaid, yo. Took the day to clean out my desk, which unfortunately meant packing up the adamantium shield that protects my customers from what I'm really wanting to say. There may have been a few "I apologize that you're too far removed from reality...", "I wasn't aware you expected SBC operators to predict the future...", or "How do I expect you to pay this bill, you ask? Well, since you're the one who accumulated the fees, I'm going to say 'check or charge'.", and similar responses. The double-whammy of fun is that my boss is out on maternity leave, so the ten (which is a huge number of a single day) complains I earned were all referred to a woman who just had a baby. Good luck finding either of us come Monday, fuckers.
The end of the work day came by me lugging my box to my car, sitting in the driver's seat and giving the building a double "You're Number One!" finger until one of the managers came out and asked me to stop because it was distracting people still working. I guess it has yet to set in that I don't have to fucking go back there. No more "Why my bill so high" or "What the fuck you want! I can't pay this!" etc. I don't imagine business account execs are going to be all puppies and sunshine, but at least they're not going to rack up a $500 cell bill, tell me they can't pay because they lost all their shit at the racetrack, and then get on MY case when I don't find that a good fucking excuse.
Came home and shipped myself off to Best Buy to grab something for the Dan's birthday. I hate going to that goddamned place because everytime I leave without something FOR MYSELF I feel like I've been cheated somehow. Anyway we get to the Kobe place and have dinner, enjoy life, etc etc. Got to see Rob and Z in addition to the Dan, all of whom I hadn't seen in awhile. It was pretty good to just kick back and make fun of Dan's inability to get a car like old times.
Dan liked his gift, which brings me to this note - the Activision compilation for the GBA has a unreleased version of Freeway called "Bloody Human Freeway" where you're a person and not a bouncy rubber chicken. I'm sure you can imagine A) Why it wasn't released, and B) Why it's much more entertaining.
So we went back to Dan's apartment after I stuffed myself full of shrimp and wtfever else was put on my plate. It is important at this point to mention, for sheer purposes of irony later, that I took AP Physics my sophmore year. So not only do I understand what happens when you try to overstuff a container, but I also understand it very well. Which is funny, because 30 minutes after nearly making myself sick at the restaraunt, we go and I'm sitting down with a huge rum and Coke in one hand and a Bailey's shake in the other. More on that later. Not sure who owned the game that we were watching, but we went from having Jake/Rob play Super Galga Remix M3g4 R0xx to a Pac Man of the same breed. Apparently what has happened with these titles is that somewhere a bunch of Japanese kids got paid to get stoned out of their goddamed minds and write down how Galga and Pac Man could be made better. On this hallowed list was apparently things like: (Galga) Space flowers that shoot aliens, spinning backgrounds, aliens doing dance formations, and the ability to turn your little shooter into a fucking Escolade. On Pac Man, they really hit the sweet, sweet cheeba, and came up with - BIGGER MOUTH FOR PACMAN LOLOLOL!!!!1!!1!!!, ghosts forming together to make demons, ghosts that puked up more pellets, ghosts that jumped, spots that made you zip across the screen and JACK th FUCK out of the ghosts, and little pills that make you win. The game is such a fucking front for chemical abuse now it's sad.
So Dan then says, "Carbombs!" which I was down with, even though I barely had enough room left in my hollow fucking leg to put anything at all in me. Carbombs, if you're not 100% sure, are when you take a shot of Bailey's, drop it into a glass of Guiness, and slam the whole thing. And since I was all excited about being tipsy and FrankenPacMan and not having to be a collector anymore, I decided that everyone was going to have to slam a whole fucking bottle of the Guiness.
Toilets are pretty cool.
I didn't get sick, though I nearly did and decided to take a small nap on Dan's bathroom floor. It was getting late anyway (for me on a workday), so I didn't really coherently think this out. It was more like "auugh feel bad ooh floor bye". Kim woke me up and took me back home where I laid down for a half hour, burped a fuckload, and felt better but not awake enough to go back to Dan's. So I just SWG'd until 3am. I am king geek, powered by pwnite.
Complete aside, my brother keeps talking up this forum he visits that's associated with a local radio show called the Church of Lazlo. As I'm getting slowly and inexorably sucked into politics, I decided to join up and take a look at the political forum there. Although it's filled with the predictable number of "omfg ur a republiker stooge" and "shut up fag liberil!", there was this gem, where my brother Spe-Dog gets some "you got served" time. Hot shit.
And that's all.
Anjin-san off.